She wakes up warm, comfortable. Her hip rests against his. She feels her skin still misted with sweat, evidence of the fervorous intensity their bodies shared just hours ago. Castle's hand rests gently on her stomach, his fingers curled just slightly.
She sits up, smiles, so happy to wake up in his bed. She knows it can only get better from here. She's so ready to be okay, ready to pour her whole heart into this. She glances over at his clock radio – it's almost 10 AM. She feels a twinge of panic shoot through her before she remembers that she resigned the day before.
She looks over at Castle as he sleeps: naked, snoring slightly, body half-covered by the thick white comforter. Adorable. She chuckles to herself before hopping out of bed, suddenly realizing that she really, really has to pee. She picks up her underwear from the floor at the foot of the bed, steps into them. She looks around the room for her tank top, puts that on too.
She saunters the few feet to the bathroom, uses it, and returns to his bedroom. She's suddenly overcome with thirst and quickly looks around the room for a glass of water, maybe, or juice, but finds nothing. Not wanting to wake Castle, she decides to make the trek to the kitchen. She walks through his office, stopping to admire it, to admire him. To bask in the knowledge that this man—this beautiful, romantic jackass—is hers now. She can touch him whenever she wants. She doesn't have to be subtle or clever or make excuses to see him outside of work anymore.
The kitchen floor is cold on the soles of her bare feet, but the air is warm. She can see the sun peeking through the living room windows, shades half-closed. She can feel summer coming. She pauses, breathing it all in, enjoying the moment before proceeding to open the wooden cupboard and reach for a glass. She opens the fridge, the chilled air refreshing against her skin. She searches behind the bottles of chardonnay and imported beer for something that will quench her thirst, orange juice maybe, or apple. When she finds nothing of the sort, she closes the door, thinking she'll just go with water, when suddenly…
Martha appears from behind the door.
"Martha!" Beckett gasps, shocked. She was sure Castle had said that she wouldn't be home until much later.
Martha is, of course, even more surprised and lets out a yelp. Kate is suddenly painfully aware of her low-rise lace underwear and stiff nipples showing through her tight blue tank top.
"Oh my god—" Martha muses. "Detective Beckett… I—well I certainly wasn't expecting to find you here this morning—I …"
Kate is speechless and simply smiles uncomfortably, frozen.
"Can I just say…I'm so..." Martha, overwhelmed, pulls Kate into a hug. "I'm so happy for you. That's all I'll say." She releases her and gestures boisterously with her hands.
"Oh, um. Thank you." Beckett manages, growing more red-faced by the second. She steps back a bit and crosses her arms, tries to cover the outline of her breasts.
"You know, he's been wanting this for such a long time." Martha continues. "And, frankly, I wasn't sure it was ever going to work out. You were really pulling at his heart strings. Now, I know you weren't ready—I respect that. It was just killing me to watch him fall so in love with you, I mean crazy in love, and I didn't want him to get his heart broken but—"
"Mother." Castle stands in the doorway to his office, wearing plaid pajama pants and his black robe.
Beckett smiles, embarrassed, and hugs her arms closer to her chest.
"Oh, Richard, I do hope you weren't standing there for too long. But I must say—everything I told her was the truth."
"Thank you, Mother, for not only making sure that Beckett runs away screaming before we've even started but also for destroying all sense of mystery in our relationship." He walks through the living room, toward the kitchen, clearly embarrassed but trying hard to remain composed.
"Oh, Kiddo, I'm sure you'll manage somehow." Martha scoffs before picking up the glass of water she's poured herself. She turns around to take a granola bar out of the cupboard and Castle looks at Beckett apologetically. Beckett lets out a silent laugh.
"Well, I'll leave you two kids alone." Martha says, turning to walk back toward her own room. "Detective Beckett, it's been a pleasure, as always."
"Thanks, um, you too, Martha." Beckett stammers.
Castle lets out a deep sigh of relief as she exits.
"I think that was the most embarrassing moment of my life." Castle starts, taking a seat at the bar. "And yes, I am including the time she showed up at my junior high school and decided to stage an impromptu show about her experiences in giving birth to me. She, of course, played all the roles."
Beckett joins him at the bar, tossing her arms around his neck and moving between his legs. She kisses him softly, tenderly, and then pulls back slightly to smile against his face.
"Hi." She speaks, biting her lip.
"Hi, Kate."
He stands up from the stool, taking her hips in his hands, and pushes her up against the hard marble of the countertop. She pushes back, hands roaming, lips moving with need.
He lifts her up by her thighs, bringing her to sit on the bar. He kisses down her torso, one hand cupping her breast, feeling the hot stiffness of her nipple. His other hand inches up her thigh and suddenly she is overcome with desire, possessed by her need for him.
"Castle." She moans softly. He's kissed all the way down her stomach by now and his lips linger on the soft lace that separates their bodies.
He stops, suddenly, bringing his face back up to hers. She rolls her hips toward his, trying to pull him in, needing to touch him.
He leans in to kiss her, slow and sweet; she's frustrated by his self-control.
"Rick." She whispers against his lips. "Please."
He pulls back a few inches, smiling devilishly.
"Race you to the bedroom."